


Marriage, Year Two

by aliveanddrunkonsunlight



Series: drunk on sunlight [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 09:50:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19827637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliveanddrunkonsunlight/pseuds/aliveanddrunkonsunlight
Summary: The ease with which Jaime talked of their family made it seem a near possibility, even though Brienne was still wrapping her mind around having him, having Jaime. “Someday we’ll have four or five wee warriors running around,” he promised. Four or five seemed too many, but she knew however many the gods saw to bless them with, their children would be lucky. They were going to have the best father in all the Seven Kingdoms.





	Marriage, Year Two

Brienne places a hand on her stomach, thinking of the women she saw that day, nearly all of them round with child. As much as she wished she could ride on and pretend she did not see them, as Evenstar, she knew it was her duty to be friendly to all who lived on Tarth. Seeing the glow in their cheeks, the women’s smiles as she wished them well with their babes, made Brienne’s throat tighten with envy, desire, wanting. She carried the ache in her heart back to Evenfall.  


It wasn’t a new desire, but a wish long abandoned. One of the many she never expected to be granted, but she was starting to learn, just as they found ways to heal themselves, after hurt and after war, the world found ways to fulfill those long lost hopes.   


The ease with which Jaime talked of their family made it seem a near possibility, even though Brienne was still wrapping her mind around having him, having Jaime. “Someday we’ll have four or five wee warriors running around,” he promised. Four or five seemed too many, but she knew however many the gods saw to bless them with, their children would be lucky. They were going to have the best father in all the Seven Kingdoms.

Every month, when she told him her moon’s blood had come, disappointment and loss in her voice, he only ever offered his open arms to her and murmured soft words in her ear. “I need not have a child to be happy, my love,” he told her once as he wiped away her tears. “I  _ am _ happy. With you.”  


He did not laugh at her determination to find out all she could, riding far and wide to visit midwives and maesters, nor when she spoke to him about finding a ward.  


“It has not been long. You may be surprised yet.” Jaime remained more hopeful than she could allow herself to be. It has been nearly a year’s time.  


It’s only when she returns home in tears, after a meeting with a maester who is visiting from Storm’s End, does he begin to show worry.

She stalks up to their chamber, him following after, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Will you tell me what happened?”  


But her tears choke her, preventing her from speaking. He waits patiently, stroking her hair. “It’s my fault,” she rasps out. “The maester said it was me, since-”  


“Since what?”  


Brienne hesitates and then lets it out in a breath. “You have fathered children.”

Through the haze of her tears, his face falls. Ever a knight, ever a fighter, he picks himself up for battle, eyes shining, his chin jutting out stubbornly. Anger in his voice when he speaks, an anger which is not directed at her. “Brienne, no. This does not fall on you alone.” His words only make more tears come and he reaches for her, touch trying to assuage her pain. “Please,” he begs her, voice trembling. “Never compare yourself to her. You are kind-hearted. You suffered others’ japes and never offered a cruel word in reply. You are patient with everyone who asks things of you, even when you do not have the time. You took Pod under your wing and gave him a job and now a home. And you love me, which may be the biggest sacrifice you ever made.”  


“Jaime,” she whispers. “That’s far from true.”  


“You are beautiful in ways she could never be. And those children, yes, once I might have wished them to be mine, but they never were.”  


Something has broken her open and she cannot seem to staunch her tears. Jaime stays with her, rubbing her back and when she finally stops, again able to take in long, hiccuping breaths, she finds his soft eyes on her. “Perhaps we should take a rest for a time. When I lie with you, it is not to create an heir. It’s because I love you.”  


“I know,” she nods.  


“I do not wish you to dwell on it so often.”

“Jaime-”  


“Do not make me forbid you from seeing maesters about the matter.”

A laugh bursts from her lips, surprising them both. “My husband has never forbidden me from anything, my good ser.”

“Maybe he should start.” His eyes twinkle. 

She sits up, glad to have his teasing distract her. “Is that a threat?”  


“It’s a promise, my lady wife.” Jaime drops a gentle kiss on her forehead and another at the crown of her head.  


The following afternoon, they take a walk together. Brienne doesn’t ask where they’re going. She simply enjoys the way Jaime reaches for her hand and laces his fingers through hers. The sun is shining brightly as they traipse across meadows, heading for a familiar glen in the woods. Once they enter this soft green place, it feels like a cocoon. Somewhere they can be safe together, where their problems cannot touch them.

The sound of water trickles through a shallow stream bed, which they follow until they reach a waterfall tucked so carefully into the rocks, it nearly masks the sound of the rushing water. Jaime lies out on one of the large boulders and it’s unclear whether he is worshipping the sun or if he is the one being worshipped.  _ Half a god.  
_

When he grows too warm, he strips off his breeches without any embarrassment and dives into the clear, cool waters. “Come on,” he waves at her to join him, shaking water from his hair. It’s growing long again, almost as long as when she first met him, and even though she teases him about being presentable since he’s Lord of Tarth now, she secretly enjoys running her fingers through it. “Please,” he begs and the tilt of his head alone makes her blush. She hides behind a tree as she undresses and then steps quickly into the water. The chill takes her breath away and she keeps her head above water until her body gets used to the temperature.  


Jaime swims to meet her, his hand landing at her waist as he kisses her. Their bodies press together underneath the surface and Jaime’s green eyes catch hers as he pulls away for a moment. A prick of desire flutters in her stomach, spreading out to her hands and feet, a buzzing underneath the surface of her skin. A heat.  


The water has beaded in Jaime’s hair, rivulets running down his face, over the taut, tanned muscle of his chest. He’s still beautiful.  _ Hers _ . She carefully winds a strand of his hair around her finger. He’s watching her carefully and when she gives it a tug, a come here command, his eyes widen. Brienne’s lips on his. Needy, hungry. Jaime is soft with her and patient, but sometimes, she doesn’t want that. Sometimes she wants raw, animalistic. There’s almost an anger to it, a demand.  


He shivers under her touch as her other hand travels down the side of his body, reaching for him. A groan in the back of her throat when she finds he’s already hard. “What do you want?” he nearly hisses in her ear.  


“I want you to make me forget.”  


Jaime presses her back against the rocks, but when he starts to bend to her breasts, she tugs at his hair again. “No. I want this.”  


“Now?”  


She wants to tell him to not look so surprised, but all she can manage is a choked reply, “Now.” There’s a fraction of hesitation from him and a tiny part of her is grateful for it because she has no doubt she is loved, but this is not the moment for it. “I need you,” she nearly growls, her mouth nipping at his ear. She sees the switch flip then, the hunger in his eyes. His hand pins her against the rock as well as he can before he thrusts into her. “Yes,” she whispers, encouraging him.  


She would not normally be this uninhibited outside of their bedchamber, would worry someone might come across them. But Jaime keeps up his rhythm, panting in her ear and her spine pressing into the rock, she lets her head fall back and closes her eyes, giving herself over to the sensations in her body. Not thinking, not worrying. The sounds they are making are not human, they are wild, unbridled, except for the occasional curse that slips out of Jaime’s mouth.  


The only gentle thing she allows him to do is cradle the back of her head when she cums. He is right there with her and he presses his forehead against her the moment afterwards, letting out a heavy, satisfied sigh, their warm bodies a tangle of arms and legs. “I…” Brienne watches the rise and fall of his chest as he falters for the right words.  


“I need more of that,” she breathes. Off his raised eyebrows, “Not right now.” She presses a hand to his chest, feels his heart racing. “But soon.”  


“Gods.” He bites at the hollow of her neck. “Why did you not tell me so sooner?” She shrugs, already falling back into her inhibitions, but she feels emboldened. “Brienne,” his voice is gravelly in her ear. “You only need ask. I do what you bid. And gladly.” He smiles lasciviously. A charming yet conniving Jaime Lannister smile she knows too well. But this time it does not get under her skin or make her stomach flip. No, instead she finds power in it, a feeling of control over her body, their bodies, where a day ago, she felt she had little.

“I’ll remember that, my ser husband.”  


“Your play thing.” He corrects, but then sees her glance and shakes his head. “Oh, believe me, I am not objecting.”  


“As I told you, my husband has never forbidden me from anything.” Jaime laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling up when he smiles, a feature of his face which she adores. She presses a gentle kiss to his left eyelid. “I love you,” she murmurs into his skin. “But I’m cold.”  


Jaime stands and reaches for her, leading her out of the pond, and helping her get dressed. His hand pauses to worry over the red marks along her spine from where it was pressed against the rock, but she tells him, “I’m fine.”  


“Good.” He draws her close, a hand in her damp hair as he kisses her, a long, slow kiss, paying extra attention to her lower lip. A new, different love blooms in her chest. They can be everything to each other. They confide their darkest moments, their deepest desires, and they can still come back to this. To love and caring and safety.  


If for some reason, they can never have a family, it would not get in the way of their happiness. They would find a way to love through it and to get what they desire, all at once.  


*

_ A month later _

Jaime meets her in the library after dinner, as is their custom, and is surprised to see Brienne already in her nightclothes. “Are you feeling all right?”  


“Yes, I’m fine.” There’s a small smile on her lips but she does not say anymore. His gaze lingers on her but then he sits and pours them both wine. 

He takes a sip and notices she’s not, is simply watching him. “Are you sure you’re well? It’s your favorite wine.”

She bites her lip. “I think I might be.”

“What? Ill?” He startles, frowning.  


Brienne laughs and turns towards him, her eyes shining with tears. “No, Jaime. I might be with child.”  


Jaime’s hand is shaking so much he nearly drops his goblet. “Oh, my love.” It’s all he can manage before the tears start to fall. She stands to meet him and he wraps her in his arms and presses his mouth to her ear. “My darling. My  _ knight _ .” He cannot think of any words for the love and gratitude he has for her, but the look on her face, the stars and fire written there, are enough. His hand slips to her stomach and neither of them can stop smiling. “I wish to hear everything,” he says, drawing a chair up so he can sit with her in his lap. “What makes you think so?”

She touches her hand to his cheek. “My sweet husband. This child is going to be very lucky.”

“Not luckier than I.” He replies, pressing his lips to hers.


End file.
